


Indelible

by speccygeekgrrl



Series: MST3K Alternate Universes [11]
Category: Mystery Science Theater 3000
Genre: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Kinga and Max are adorable, Multi, but come on imagine Jonah as a tattoo artist and tell me that's not great, it doesn't matter what the AU is Jonah is always weak for cuteness, this is so gratuitous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 19:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12711210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/speccygeekgrrl/pseuds/speccygeekgrrl
Summary: Matching couple's tattoos are usually a bad idea. Couples getting different tattoos at the same time is a less bad idea. The last thing Jonah expects is for his walk-in clients to leave a lasting impression on him; it's supposed to go the other way around.





	Indelible

**Author's Note:**

> Another installment in the "Dani writes AUs she's too personally invested in" series! I have no shame. And a lot of tattoos. 
> 
> I just absolutely can't resist leaning OT3 with these three even when I am trying not to. I just love putting them all together too much.

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and Jonah was... a little bored, honestly. He was doodling in his sketchbook, just coming up with stuff for his next flash sheet, glancing up at the door of the shop every few minutes as if he could will a customer through the door on a slow day. _Come in, come in, come in,_ he thought.

Then he looked up just in time to see someone open the door, a second before the bell jingled. _Yes!_ "Hi, I’m Jonah, how can I help you?" he asked, putting down his sketchbook and standing up. A pair of people came in, one redheaded woman and one silver-haired man, and they were holding hands.

"Yeah, we want to get each other's names in hearts," the woman said, and Jonah had to try very hard not to let his negative reaction show. Apparently he didn't do a good job of it. Both of them cracked up. "Oh my god, no we don't, can you even imagine? No way."

"That's a relief," Jonah said. "Do you actually want something?"

"Yeah, we both do," the man said. "But not like... matching tattoos or anything."

"Okay, do you have ideas? I can start sketching now, I don't have any appointments scheduled for the rest of the day. Do you want to take a look through my album?"

"We checked it out on your website," the woman said. "We already decided that we like your style. I wanted this..." She pulled a piece of paper out of her jacket pocket and handed it to him. "But stylized."

"Is that a dopamine molecule?" She nodded, and Jonah smiled. That was a cute love tattoo, he could definitely work with that. "And what about you?"

"A red panda," the man said, and Jonah eyed the woman's ginger hair and tried not to laugh. "I didn't have a specific pose in mind or anything. I was hoping you'd help me figure it out."

"Yeah, of course," Jonah said. "Did you have locations planned?"

"My wrist," the woman said, holding out her left hand with her inner wrist up. "Right here, please." There were faint, pale pink scars crossing her skin where she indicated. Jonah took her hand and turned it, thumb brushing across her wrist.

"About this big?" he asked, drawing a box on her skin with his fingertip that enclosed all the scars. She nodded. "No problem." If they'd looked through his portfolio online, she would have seen that scar cover-ups were something he had a lot of experience with. He wondered if that was why they'd picked him. "And yours will go..."

"Same place," the man said, holding his hand out. His skin was unmarked, and Jonah took his hand the same way. "But bigger than hers. I was thinking maybe this big..." He indicated about a third of the way down his forearm. "Depends on what you sketch, I guess."

"I can work with that," Jonah said. He went back around his desk to pull out two consent forms and handed one clipboard to each of them. "I need you to fill these out and I'm going to need to copy your IDs." When they handed him their licenses, he studied them briefly on his way to the scanner. Kinga Forrester and Max Goldberg. Okay. They seemed like a cute couple, and he thoroughly approved of their tattoo ideas. Too often people came in wanting cliches to mark their love forever, and too often they came back wanting cover-ups after that love went south. At least unique and meaningful ink was less likely to require a cover-up even if the relationship didn't last. "Now, if you want to just hang out here, I'll have a dopamine sketch in about five minutes and once you like that we can start designing the panda."

"Sounds good," Max said, and he started perusing the flash sheets up on the walls. Jonah had been on a TV kick and a lot of his recent flash reflected that: Stranger Things, The Walking Dead, Game of Thrones, and Rick and Morty each had a sheet. "Hey, Kinga, come look at this one." She'd been studying the artist, not the art, and Jonah gave her a guileless wide-eyed blink before she turned to see what Max was pointing out.

"Oh, that's too good," she said.

"What are you looking at?"

"She's a Loyalist," Max said, and Jonah huffed a laugh.

"Fire and Blood, huh?"

"Got it in one," Kinga said. "So you're a fan and not just taking advantage of the trends?"

"I'm a fan of everything that's up on that wall," Jonah said. "I'll draw almost anything on request, but the stuff I do of my own volition reflects my own interests pretty closely."

"You've got good taste, then," Max said, and then laughed. "Is that Carl Sagan?"

"Absolutely," Jonah said. "He's a personal hero."

"We came to the right place, honey," Max said, nudging Kinga gently. "Verified nerd."

"I told you, Synthia recommended him." 

"Forrester," Jonah said, the lightbulb clicking on in his head. "You're related to Synthia Forrester? You don't look alike." 

"She's a suicide blonde," Kinga said. "And she swears by you." 

“I’d hope so after as much work as I’ve done on her,” Jonah said. “How’d her sleeve heal up? She hasn’t been back since I finished it.”

“It looks amazing,” Max said. “The detail work on the trees is masterful.”

“My favorite part is the sky,” Kinga said. “That nebula, wow.”

“Thanks,” Jonah said, flushing slightly from the praise. “She took it like a trooper. That was three six-hour sessions over four months. I’m half amazed she didn’t need a blood transfusion after the color work.”

“All Forresters are good at dealing with pain,” Kinga said. “I like the sensation of being tattooed, actually. It’s a productive sort of pain.”

“I’m not good at dealing with pain,” Max said. “This will be my first tattoo. But I can’t cry or she’ll make fun of me mercilessly.”

“Well, that’s not nice,” Jonah said. “Everyone’s tolerance is different.”

“He can handle it,” Kinga said, catching Max’s hand and squeezing it. “He just likes to complain.”

“It hurts less when I can bitch about it,” Max said. “I’ll try not to be too annoying.”

“Hey, I don’t care one way or another as long as you don’t start flinging personal insults,” Jonah said. “Cry or whine or whatever you want to do. But if you’re the crying type I’m going to give you a much simpler design than I was thinking.” He put down his pencil and held up his sketchpad. “Here, what do you think about this?” She came over to look. “So the molecule would be in black and I can do some watercolor splashes to make it pop. Do you have any colors you’d prefer?”

“Purple and bright green,” she said immediately. “That sounds awesome.”

“I do have to warn you...” She gave him a curious look. “It hurts more to tattoo over a scar,” he said quietly. “And it doesn’t always hold the ink as well so you may need to get it touched up sooner.”

“I know,” she said. “This isn’t my first rodeo.”

“Just making sure,” he said. “A lot of people who come in for cover-ups aren’t aware of that.”

“Don’t worry about me, I can handle it.”

“I believe you.” He put the sketchbook down. “Hey, Max. Come look at red panda pictures for a minute.”

“I could look at red panda pictures all day,” Max said cheerfully as he came around the desk. “They are just about the cutest animals on the planet.” He leaned against the back of Jonah’s chair as Jonah scrolled through the Google image search results, then reached over the artist’s shoulder to tap the screen. “That one. Attack mode.”

“Are you sure? The fur is dark on the underside...”

“Yeah, but the face and tail are still red. And attack mode is a little too appropriate for the subject matter,” he said, shooting a fond glance at Kinga. “It’s still doable, right?”

“Yeah, of course, whatever you want. Were you thinking realistic or more stylized?”

“In your portfolio... the style you use for different Pokemon...”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Jonah said, nodding. “Okay. This’ll take me about twenty minutes to sketch out, then I can make whatever adjustments you want.”

“Sounds good,” Max said. “Can you talk while you draw or are you a single-minded kind of person?”

“I might not be the most sparkling conversationalist with my attention split, but I can keep up my end of a conversation,” Jonah said with a laugh, picking up his pencil. “Why, do you have questions?”

“We’re not going to interrogate you,” Kinga said. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing. But that’s probably better for when you’re not using your hands.” Jonah gave her a wide-eyed shocked look, and she smirked at him. “How long have you been doing this?”

“Art in general or tattooing specifically?”

“Both,” Max said, and he leaned in to murmur something into Kinga’s ear when he came around from behind Jonah’s desk. She rolled her eyes and nodded.

“I’ve drawn since I’ve been able to hold a crayon, more or less,” Jonah said. “I was still in art school when I started my apprenticeship at a tattoo shop. Got my license when I was 21, bounced from shop to shop for a while, and then Joel offered me a job here three years ago. Turns out the Satellite of Love is a great place for me to work.”

“So this isn’t your shop?”

“I mean, I don’t own it and I’m not the only one who works here,” Jonah said. “But Joel’s taking his kids on a camping trip this week and Mike’s off on Wednesdays, so I’m alone today.” He pointed his pencil at the other wall of the waiting room. “All that stuff is Mike’s flash. Joel’s kind of an artiste, he doesn’t do flash sheets. But his album’s over there. He’s got a weird pointillistic style, it’s pretty cool really. I don’t have the patience to work in dots. He’s had people come from all around the world for his work, though.” Kinga went over to pick up the album and page through it, and her brows shot up.

“Holy shit, this is crazy detailed.”

“Right? It’s very mathematical but organic at the same time. Here, check this one out...” He spun his chair around and pulled his shirt up to show off the tattoo on the back of his right shoulder. 

“Fibonacci,” Max said. “That’s freaking awesome.”

“The nice thing about the dot tattoos is that they heal really fast, too,” Jonah said, pulling his shirt back down and turning back to the sketch. “This one was healed in like a week.” 

“Wow,” Kinga said. “I might have to come back to see him too.”

“One tattoo at a time, dearest,” Max said. “Only one open wound on your body at once. You promised.”

“Yeah, yeah...” She made a grumbling sound but kissed him on the cheek anyways. “I know.”

“You’ve been doing so well.”

“That’s why we’re here,” she said. “You promised too.” Jonah didn’t say anything, but he was watching them, wondering what the story was. The longer they stayed in the shop, the cuter of a couple they seemed to be. When they walked in they’d been amusing. Now he was starting to think that they were sweet. He was already hoping that he’d see them again. “So how many tattoos do _you_ have?” she asked.

“Eleven,” Jonah said. “I did five of them myself. I showed you the one Joel did. Two of them are from my friend Emily from the shop I started at. One’s a memorial for my dad. And two are shitty little stick-and-pokes my friends did in study hall in high school that I can’t bring myself to cover up.”

“I have one of those,” she said. “But I did it myself. This will be my sixth professional one.”

“The one you did yourself isn’t that shitty,” Max said. “It’s obviously not professional but it doesn’t look like a fourteen year old’s cry for attention either.”

“It shouldn’t,” she said. “I was sixteen when I did it. And it wasn’t a cry for attention where I put it.”

“I certainly hope not,” he said, pulling her closer with a hand on her hip. “You should already be getting positive attention before it comes into sight.” Jonah’s brows arched and he looked down at his sketchbook when they kissed. They were _really_ cute together, and Jonah was weak for cuteness.

“Come take a look at this,” he said after a few more minutes. Max let go of Kinga to come back to the desk, and Jonah looked up at him while he studied the sketch. Max’s eyes lit up and he smiled.

“Yes, this looks awesome.”

“Anything you want changed?”

“Mmm...”

“Think about it while I do her tattoo, then. I’ll call you back when the room’s ready,” he said to Kinga, who nodded and walked over to look at the sketch as he walked away. It only took about ten minutes to get everything he needed set out, and when he poked his head out of the room it was to find Max with his lips pressed to Kinga’s scar-marked wrist. “I’m ready when you are,” he said. “You can both come back, there’s a place for Max to sit and watch.”

“Thanks,” Max said, and he sat where Jonah pointed, out of the way but with a clear view of where Kinga laid her arm to be worked on. Jonah pulled on a pair of gloves, and Kinga snorted.

“Do you really need extra extra large gloves?” Jonah just held up one hand, fingers splayed out, and she blinked. “Jesus, I guess so. I didn’t even know they came in that size.”

“I have to special order them, they’re not kept in stock where Joel gets supplies for the shop,” Jonah said. “Kind of a pain in the ass, but what am I going to do about it, right?” He cleaned her wrist and ran a disposable razor over it, moistened her skin, and laid the template on it to transfer the design. When he peeled it off, he looked up at her. “How’s that placement?” She turned her wrist slightly and smiled.

“Looks good to me.”

“Okay, good.” He lifted the tattoo gun. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it.” The design of the molecule was simple, all straight lines and block letters, and Kinga didn’t flinch or move at all when the needle broke skin. All of the black was done in a matter of minutes, and he wiped away the excess ink and the blood to let her see the crisp lines before he started in on the color. “I barely felt a thing,” she said, and he gave her a smile as he switched out needles on the tattoo gun.

“You might feel a thing with this step,” he said, and dipped it in the brightest green he had to get going on the watercolor splashes. Jonah loved doing watercolor tattoos, the gradients and the soft edges and just how pretty they all looked. When he glanced up to see how she was doing, he found Kinga biting her lip and looking... decidedly not in pain. Okay. Some people were like that. It was just distracting to find her cute, so he tried not to notice. 

“That’s really cool,” Max said from his place out of the way. “How you shift the colors like that.” Jonah finished the green splash, which went from bright green to blue-green, and wiped it clear before starting in on the purple one. “It really does look like a watercolor.”

“Thanks,” Jonah said. “I like doing this style, it’s interesting to work without lines.” 

“It looks good,” Kinga said, watching his face and not what his hands were doing. “It’s easy to tell you love your job.”

“I really do. I get to make art all day long, and people like it enough to want it on them forever. It’s the coolest gig possible.” He switched inks, working his way gradually from a royal purple to a bright magenta for this splash, and she hummed as he inked in a few “stray drops” on the design. When he wiped her wrist clean, he turned her hand in his to check it from a different angle, then nodded. “What do you think?”

“I love it,” she said. “Max, look how cool this is.”

“I’ve been looking,” Max said dryly. “It’s really pretty, it suits you perfectly. And you used our colors...” She blew him a kiss and he smiled. “It’s wonderful.”

“If you’re happy with it, I’ll wrap it up,” Jonah said, and she nodded. He wiped the blood away one last time, smoothed on a layer of ointment, and put the protective wrap over the tattoo, binding it to her wrist with two strips of masking tape. “You’ll want to leave that on for a couple hours and—”

“Not my first rodeo,” she said again. “He’ll need the run-down, but I don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Jonah said. “If you guys want to go back out to the waiting room, I just have to clean up in here before I can re-set for his turn. Max, take another look at the sketch I did for you and make sure you don’t want anything changed about it, okay?”

“Can do,” Max said, and Kinga looped her arm through his as soon as they stepped out of the room and kissed his cheek. Jonah watched them until they turned the corner into the waiting room, and turned back to what he was doing with his head shaking slightly. 

_Come on, Heston, not this again,_ he told himself as he dismantled the tattoo gun and discarded the needles. _Your cute addiction only ever gets you into trouble._ He could never help himself, though. He was a total sucker for adorable couples. Once he’d thrown away everything that needed throwing away and wiped down everything that needed wiping down, he tossed his gloves in the trash and came out of the room cracking his knuckles. “So, any second thoughts about it?”

“The paws,” Max said, tapping the sketchbook. “Could you make them wider?”

“I think the ears need to be a little more pointy,” Kinga said. “They’re too round here.” Jonah sat down at the desk and picked up his pencil, easily fixing both of those problems. “And how are you going to do the color?”

“With style and panache,” Jonah said, and she fixed him with an unimpressed look. “He said he wanted it like my other Pokemon tattoos, so I was planning on doing it bold and basic. It’ll be easier like that for a pain-averse first-timer, too. Adding texture to the fur would just hurt him more.”

“Less pain sounds good to me,” Max said. “I think it looks great now. I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Well, you have a little time to get more ready if possible,” Jonah said. “It’ll take about as long to prep for this one as it did the first one. I’ll call you back in a bit.” He went off to make the template and set out the needles and inks, and this time when he went to call them in, he caught Kinga sitting on Max’s knees, his face between both her hands and him nodding to whatever she was whispering to him. She kissed him firmly and stood up wearing a smirk, like she’d intended to be caught like that. “I’m ready for you now,” Jonah said a little weakly, and Max followed him into the room looking nervous but determined.

“How long do you think this’ll take?” he asked as Jonah prepped his arm.

“Maybe an hour and a half,” Jonah said. “Depends on how well you can sit for it. The stiller you stay, the faster it’ll go.”

“Okay,” Max said. “I can stay still. Sure.” He didn’t sound sure. Jonah put the template on his arm to let him check the positioning, and Max held his arm out to Kinga to double-check it. Kinga got her phone out and started snapping pictures. “Oh, god, are you really going to document this whole process?”

“It’s your first tattoo,” she said. “It deserves to be memorialized.”

“The tattoo is the memorial!”

“Shhh, just a couple pics for Instagram. I promise not to take any if you cry.”

“Want me to kick her out?” Jonah asked, mostly joking, and Max shook his head quickly.

“No. I’m doing this for her, she has to be here for it.” Jonah bit back an _aww_ as he pulled on a pair of gloves. 

“Okay. Are you ready for this?”

“Be gentle with me,” Max said.

“I have a light touch, I promise.” There wasn’t a whole lot of gentle associated with punching a needle through skin repeatedly, but some artists were heavy-handed and didn’t think about the pain they inflicted. Jonah was always conscious of it, though. “Here we go...” Max yelped at the first touch of the needle, then bit his lip hard to keep himself from making any more sounds. Jonah finished one line and glanced up. “Can you handle it?”

“You’ve already begun, I kind of have to see it through now,” Max said. “It’s... probably bearable.”

“If you need me to pause, just let me know, okay? I don’t want it to be overwhelming.”

“Thanks. I will.” When Jonah continued, Max closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. He didn’t flinch, though, didn’t move his arm at all, and Jonah was glad that he was sitting so well for it. 

“You’re doing great,” he said as he finished the body of the panda and moved on to the tail. “Almost done with the linework already.” Max didn’t respond, just breathed a little more deeply as the needle crossed the most delicate part of his wrist. “And we’re done with that part now,” Jonah said a few minutes later, setting down the tattoo gun and wiping the tattoo clean. “You can open your eyes.” When Max did, they looked a little watery, but he just blinked to clear his vision and looked down at his arm.

“Wow,” he said. “That’s... really on me forever.”

“That’s not an enthusiastic reaction,” Jonah said, getting worried, and Max shook his head.

“No! I’m not saying I’m not happy about it! Just... it’s a big deal for me.” He held out his arm. “What do you think, honey?”

“I think it looks great,” Kinga said, taking another picture. “That was the easy part, though. The color’s going to hurt more.”

“It’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” Max said. “So that’ll probably be as bad as I was expecting.”

“So far you’re handling it really well,” Jonah said. “No histrionics, no swearing, no dramatic declarations of regret...”

“I think I can handle the color,” Max said, putting his arm back on the rest. “I’m ready for it.”

“Awesome,” Jonah said, swapping out needles and dipping into a cinnamon red. “Just keep breathing, you’re doing fantastic.” He started in on the distinctive face markings, and Max made a stifled sound at the different feel of the wider needle and winced. “I know it hurts more, it’s covering more ground at once. Just think about how badass it’s going to look when it’s done.”

“You can handle this,” Kinga said encouragingly. “You’re being really brave about it.”

“I’m not that brave,” Max said, keeping his eyes closed. “If I was brave I could look at it. But the blood freaks me out.”

“There’s nothing wrong with not looking,” Jonah said. “I couldn’t look when I got my first real one either. And that was just black and white, no color.”

“What was it?” Max asked.

“A penguin on my arm,” Jonah said. “I got it done the day I turned eighteen. Filling in the black _sucked_ , but I was so proud of myself for sitting through it when it was done.” 

“I’m really coming to this late in the game,” Max said. “You both got real ones when you turned eighteen. And here I am on the wrong side of forty.”

“Oh, hush,” Kinga said. “Wrong side of nothing. It doesn’t matter how old you are, it matters why you do it. And you’re doing it for me, so it matters the most.”

“The things I do for love,” Max sighed. “And this isn’t even the craziest thing.”

“We can talk about the craziest thing when we get home,” she purred. “It’s not fair to inflict that on some innocent soul.”

“You realize that phrasing it like that only piques my interest,” Jonah said, pausing to shoot a glance at her. From how smug she looked, she did realize it. He rolled his eyes and went back to filling in the stripes on the fluffy tail.

“Don’t mind her,” Max said. “She’s got a flair for the performative.”

“Act like you don’t like it too,” she said, and Max smiled slightly, eyes still closed.

“I never said that.”

“I don’t know what you’re involving me in, but I don’t think I’m objecting,” Jonah interjected. “Just saying.”

“Oh _really_ ,” Kinga said. “How intriguing.” She didn’t say anything else, and Jonah focused on what he was doing, finishing up with the red and moving on to the dark brown underside and paws of the red panda. It was easy for him to fill that in, harder on Max to take it, but it went quickly.

“Almost done,” Jonah said as he cleaned the ink off the needle. “Just have to add some white and you’re all set.”

“How does it look?” Max asked, and Kinga made a considering sound.

“Bloody,” she said, and Max shuddered. “It’ll look great once he cleans it off.”

“You are a bit of a bleeder,” Jonah said, starting with the white ink. “More than usual.”

“Great,” Max said. “Not like I can donate blood after getting a tattoo anyways. Guess it doesn’t matter if we waste my rare blood type on paper towels.”

“You’re very weird,” Jonah said, and Max huffed a laugh.

“Thanks.”

“You’re both weird. But I like weird people.”

“Are you a weird person?” Kinga asked. 

“I like to think I am,” Jonah said. “In a good way.” He finished the face and paws and put down the tattoo gun. “Okay,” he said. “No more inflicting pain.” Max blinked his eyes open in time to see Jonah wiping the blood and ink off his arm and swallowed. “What do you think?” Jonah asked when he got it as clean as he could with the blood still welling up.

“It’s perfect,” Max said. “I’m thrilled!”

“It looks really, really good,” Kinga said, taking one more picture before sliding her phone into her pocket and coming around to kiss Max’s temple. “I’m so proud of you, you barely complained.”

“He actually didn’t complain at all,” Jonah said. “I was keeping track. I almost don’t believe it was his first, he sat like a pro.”

“I just zoned out,” Max said. “Mindfulness doesn’t work so well when the moment is pain, but daydreaming can get me out of almost anything.” He sat patiently while Jonah wrapped his wrist up, and then they both followed him back out to the desk.

“I’m really glad you’re both satisfied with the work,” he said, and handed an aftercare sheet to Max. “Leave the wrap on for a couple of hours, then take it off and wash with unscented soap. Let it air dry, _don’t_ rub it, and put on a little A &D. Do that every few hours for the first two days, then you can switch to unscented lotion.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of him,” Kinga said, leaning against Max with a smile. “So what do we owe you?”

“Are you paying together or separately?”

“I’m paying,” she said. “I asked him to get it, so I’m footing the bill.”

“Okay, it’s $240 altogether.” She handed him two hundreds and four twenties, and his brows arched.

“Thanks for making his first time so pleasant,” she said. “I have a feeling we’ll be back soon.”

“It was my pleasure,” Jonah said sincerely. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again.” He headed back into the room to start cleaning up. Instead of hearing the jingle of the door bell, he heard steps following him a minute later.

“Uh, Jonah?” It was Max, and he looked a little nervous. “You said your schedule was clear today... would it be unprofessional of us to ask you out to dinner?”

“You’re not the ones who have to worry about being unprofessional,” Jonah said dryly. “It’d be unprofessional of me to walk away from this mess without cleaning it up, but I think I could get away with closing up shop once I’ve finished that. Did you have something in mind?”

“Well, there’s this ramen place a few blocks away we’ve heard good things about...” Kinga leaned around Max and gave Jonah a questioning look.

“Oh, yeah, that place is great!” 

“So you’ll come with us?”

“Give me ten minutes and I’m all yours.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Kinga purred, and she pulled Max away from the door. “Hope you’ve got an appetite.” He wasn’t sure she meant hunger, but he was okay with the ambiguity anyways.


End file.
